


Safety in Your Arms

by tehsasu



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, M/M, rogue werewolf, snuggles, stiles is an awesome friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 15:57:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehsasu/pseuds/tehsasu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was pretty sure the world was laughing at him and his idiotic and questionable life choices. Why he had to assist Scott in celebrating the first anniversary of his and Alison’s relationship of fiery passion and puppy love was beyond Stiles. </p><p>So, driving two towns over to drop them off at some cabin lodge for a romantic get-away was no problem for Stiles. Seeing Scott so happy was worth it.</p><p>At least, that’s what Stiles had to remind himself when his beloved Betty gave a sickly moan before conking out. In the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by woods. Right when a storm decided to release its pent up energy and soak the ground in a matter of seconds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety in Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> First finished (yes, I say finished because I have 3 more fics in the works) Teen Wolf fic. Written for my good friend Neitz. She had asked for some Sterek fluff so I hope this accomplishes it.

Stiles was pretty sure the world was laughing at him and his idiotic and questionable life choices. Why he had to assist Scott in celebrating the first anniversary of his and Alison’s relationship of fiery passion and puppy love was beyond Stiles. He was happy for the two. Honestly, he was. They were able to finally last a whole year without some sort of emotional turmoil exploding in their faces every time the supernatural world came barging in through their door. Allison and Scott were at their happiest when they were together. And that’s all that mattered to Stiles.

So, driving two towns over to drop them off at some cabin lodge for a romantic get-away was no problem for Stiles. Seeing Scott so happy was worth it.

At least, that’s what Stiles had to remind himself when his beloved Betty gave a sickly moan before conking out. In the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by woods. Right when a storm decided to release its pent up energy and soak the ground in a matter of seconds.

“Come on baby, don’t disappoint me now,” Stiles tried to coax his jeep as he tried to get her to start. “I promise in the morning, I will take you in to the mechanics and he can get his hands all over you and make you feel better but first, we need to get home.”

Ten minutes of trying to get Betty to start came out empty. She had given up on him. Left him stranded in the middle of nowhere. Thanks.

Reaching over to the passenger seat to grab his phone, Stiles debated on whom to call. If he called his dead, then there would be questions. Namely ones that Stiles was just not comfortable as a teenager to answer. And Scott had made him promise not to say anything to any parent. Which was fair enough because if Chris Argent ever found out, then so much for a romantic weekend get-away he had Stiles plan at the last minute. Lydia and Jackson wouldn’t help. They’d just scoff at him and tell him to find some other way home. Or just ignore his calls completely, which was more likely to happen. Isaac, Erica and Boyd either wouldn’t go out of their way to help or just wouldn’t be able to.

That left Derek. Which sucked. Big time. Yeah. No thanks.

It looked like his choice on the matter was taken out of his hands anyway. Thee was no phone reception. Of course, there was no reception. He was surrounded by woods, was in between towns, a giant storm saying a big fat hi to the world and this was his life, so of course he wouldn’t have reception.

Stiles weighed up his options. He could either get out of the car and walk and hope to god someone drives past or the next town over wasn’t that much further up ahead; or he could wait out the storm and go for said walk when it was dry. Considering it was pretty late at night, he was definitely waiting out the storm.

Throwing the hood of his jacket over his head, Stiles settled as comfortably as he could in his car and started up a game on his phone.

Ten minutes later, Stiles had thrown his phone to the passenger seat, bored out of his brains and getting antsy and frustrated. Just how long was this rain going to last?

A loud roll of thunder reverberated through the car, causing Stiles to shiver. Unlike most storms however, this one was leaving the hairs on the back of his neck on end. He spent a good minute trying to convince himself that there hadn’t been an underlying noise to that thunder that sounded suspiciously like a howl. But then the exact same thing happened again, Stiles knew there was definitely a predatory howl closing in.

Glancing through the rear view mirror, Stiles was filled with dread. Despite the dark and the lashing rain, there were clearly two visible glowing pair of blue eyes reflecting back at him. Desperately, he tried to think whether or not there were any packs around. He could easily remember that drilling lesson the pack had on surrounding packs but his mind drew a blank.

“This is your fault, Scott,” Stiles murmured. Yes, he was going to blame his best friend, who was most likely currently warm and blissed out and doing things that Stiles would rather not know or think about.

“Okay, Mr. Wolf, sir, I know you can hear me so please don’t eat me. My car broke down and I swear to all things good that as soon as the rain stops, I’ll be out of here in no time. Believe me, I don’t want to be here any more then you do and I’m sure sour wolf is – you’re not really listening to me? No, of course you’re not.”

Stiles swept his eyes around the surrounding area but found no other signs of other wolves. Shit. Shit. Shit. This wolf wasn’t part of a pack. Of he were, there would definitely be more glowing eyes signaling more wolves wanting in on the tearing-Stiles-to-shreds action.

Without thinking, Stiles snapped his seatbelt off and fell out of the car. He was immediately drenched to the bone but that was the last thing on his mind. Taking a few steps back, he shielded his eyes from the rain and watched the lone wolf for a few seconds. The wolf was definitely getting closer.

“You don’t want me. I swear, you don’t. It’d be healthier for you if you just kept on going on your way then and leave the stalking of one Stiles Stilinski, that’s me, to one Derek. Derek Hale? Do you know him? Big, dark, surly, pretty gorgeous Alpha of Beacon Hills? Ring any bells? Nope. Okay.” As soon as the last word slipped from his mouth, Stiles allowed his body to listen to instinct and ran.

Intellectually, he knew that the flight option was bad news but he sure as hell didn’t stand a chance fighting. It wasn’t like he came out here knowing there was a rogue prowling around the area and chose to be stupid and not carry something to defend himself. But now that he was in flight mode, he couldn’t stop his legs from pushing him away, couldn’t stop his feet from pounding ruthlessly against the slippery asphalt road.

The reality of his bad decision came crashing down upon him in a matter of what felt like seconds. Before the rogue launched an attack, Stiles’ feet slipped, sending him hurtling down to the ground. A heart stopping second later, he watched as the lean and agile body of a wolf jumped over him, jaws snapping viciously. Without wasting another moment, Stiles scrambled back to his feet and doubled back.

As soon as the animal landed, it was after Stiles again.

“Oh god, oh god!” Stiles panicked.

He could feel his heart beat ruthlessly against his chest. His lungs struggled to take in any fresh oxygen and it took everything for Stiles to keep a panic attack at bay.

Every step that Stiles took, the werewolf matched. A low growl sent chills down his spin and he knew then that this was the end and no one would even know a thing. He was going to die and no one would find out for hours, possibly days. His dad was going to be left alone, left to grieve another death he couldn’t prevent and just who was going to be the one to bring him out of it this time? No one.

At that thought, Stiles’ mouth ran dry, his throat constricted and breathing became virtually impossible.

Headlights blinded both Stiles and the rogue before the loud screech of tires breaking sharply was barely drowned out by the storm. Before either Stiles of the wolf could react, another dark body pounced. Taking the opportunity, Stiles ran back to his car, not looking back. What ever was happening, Stiles did not want to be caught in between. He couldn’t leave his dad behind. He couldn’t leave his best friend and for some stupid reason, he discovered that he couldn’t leave the pack behind. He couldn’t be another death that Derek would have to cope with. He just couldn’t. 

Yanking open the Jeep’s passenger side door, he jumped inside and scrambled to the back. He settled down on the floor between both sets of seats and curled his body in on itself. The desperation to breath was overwhelming. He tried to remember the exercises he and his dad had developed when he had started suffering from panic attacks years ago but his mind drew a blank. The blinding knowledge that this could be it, this could have been the end, was too overwhelming.

So when the car door was yanked open, Stiles couldn’t even muster the energy or breath to yelp in panicked surprise.

“Stiles.”

A familiar voice. Okay. He could work with that. Gasping for air, Stiles raised his head from his knees and as soon as he could make out Derek’s form standing there, looking oddly – well, worried as an understatement – Stiles leapt from the car floor. He crashed against Derek and wrapped his arms tightly around him, holding on as if his life depended on it.

“Stiles, it’s okay. You’re safe. Just breathe,” Derek instructed.

Stiles gasped in panicked desperation. “I can’t – I – I –“

Warm fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, gently caressing skin. Another arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him in closer so their bodies were perfectly aligned, flushed up against each other.

“Breath with me. You can do it. In. Out. In. Out.”

If he had the capabilities to even think coherently, Stiles would have wondered and dissected the many and very few actually sounding reasons as to why Derek was comforting him. As it stands at the moment, Stiles was just grateful that Derek was here and he was safe and he was able to go back home to his dad.

Gradually, Stiles felt his lungs fill with enough oxygen that his chest didn’t feel so constricted. The blinding panic edged away, crawling back to the recesses of his mind. 

Eventually, Stiles was able to let out one long, if shaky, breath and step away from Derek, allowing both their arms to fall away.

“Stiles, what are you doing out here?” Derek asked.

“My car broke down. I want to go home,” Stiles answered.

Home was safe. Home was where his dad was, if he was not working the night shift at the station.

Derek stared at him for a moment longer before nodding and leading the way back to his car. Remnants of the fight could be seen with the headlights. There was blood and torn clothing and oh god, was that an arm? Stiles had to divert his eyes to his feet quickly unless he wanted to bring up what ever it was that he last ate.

With the adrenaline rush disappearing, Stiles was left huddled in the passenger seat as his body was overtaken by small trembles. Wordlessly, Derek turned on the heater and focused on the road.

No one said a word on the way and Stiles almost preferred it like that. He hated questions he couldn’t answer truthfully and his mind was not in the position to come up with something else on the drop of a hat.

Stiles didn’t even question Derek when they pulled up to his apartment instead of Stiles’ home. He kept silent as Derek led him inside but as soon as he stepped through that door, Stiles couldn’t move. He felt awkward and out of place. The only other time he had dared to visit Derek at his apartment was during pack meetings or the movie nights they tend to have. Without the pack there to fill the silence with mindless talk and laughter, it was just them. Just Derek and Stiles. And Stiles didn’t know what to do with that.

“I should go home,” Stiles told Derek.

Derek tossed over a towel and ushered Stiles into the bathroom. Stiles stood there, eyes glancing out of the door then to the shower then back out again. Sometimes, he really wished Derek would use his words. It would make these sorts of situations so much easier.

Derek returned a moment later with a pair of track pants and a clean shirt. Stiles took them gratefully and watched Derek leave and close the door behind him.

It wasn’t until he was under the spray of hot water, the warmth melting the ice covering his bones that he realized that his body had still been shaking in random intervals. The water helped coax his muscles to relax and allowed him to calmly reassess everything.

He was alive. He wasn’t hurt. Well, he had a few scrapes and bruises from falling but they weren’t even worth the mention. Soon, he would be able to go home and be with his dad. They would be able to have dinners and more awkward moments then either of them ever wanted. And that was great. Stiles wanted that. He wanted more time with his dad. He wanted to be able to pick up Scott and Allison after the weekend of seclusion. There would be more opportunities to work with Lydia and use their higher brainpower to help out their pack. There would be more pack meetings where he was left feeling like he was getting closer and closer to everyone. There would be more days where he was surrounded by people and not have to deal with the feeling of being alone and an outcast.

Swallowing hard, Stiles closed his eyes and took calming deep breaths. He can do this. It hasn’t been the first time that he has been attacked and it wasn’t the first time he’s felt helpless and afraid. But the real fact of the matter was, that if Derek hadn’t been miraculously there, proving the world wrong regarding Stiles’ luck, he would have been dog food.

Not liking where his thoughts were heading again, Stiles shook his head, quickly washed and left the shower. He toweled off quickly, dressed and left the bathroom to try and find Derek.

He found Derek lying across the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes.

“Why were you out there?” Stiles blurted out.

Immediately he cringed. That was not what he wanted to say. He wanted to say thank you for once again saying his pathetic human ass.

“You were late,” Derek answered.

“Oh.”

Stiles had no idea how to respond to that. Derek knew about the love birds little outing and the fact that Stiles was playing chaperone. He just hadn’t expected that Derek would go to the trouble of going out to look for him because he was late getting back.

Huffing, Derek slipped off the couch, took Stiles by the shoulders and led him to the bedroom.

Derek pushed Stiles down on the bed and joined him a second later. Arms wrapped around Stiles’ thin frame as Derek nuzzled against his neck, taking in his scent.

“You’re safe,” Derek mumbled.

It was like the last of the terrifying encounter had been swept away with those two words. Stiles immediately felt drained and wanted nothing more then to curl up and sleep.

“I know,” Stiles whispered.

Warm fingers pushed up underneath the too big shirt and gently mapped out his skin. Stiles’ breath hitched at the touch but his body remained relaxed and went so far as to turn his head, exposing more of his neck for Derek.

That seemed to please Derek as he nipped playfully at the muscle joining his neck and shoulder before he lightly placed small kisses up and down the column of flesh.

Pushing away from Stiles briefly, Derek brought the blanket up and over them. Once they were settled back down, Stiles rolled over and buried his head against Derek’s chest, breathing in everything his human senses could take in. Derek smelled of rain and woods – of home and safety.

“Thank you,” Stiles whispered.

Derek placed a kiss against Stiles’ forehead before returning his nose to the juncture of his neck, his hands settling against Stiles’ back underneath the shirt.

What ever was between them, growing and settling in a warm and comforting place that neither wanted to remove, now wasn’t the time to be cross-examining it. What ever it was, it could wait until morning. But for now, with a pleased sigh, Stiles closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take over.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr guys. If anyone was interested where I post snippets of fic/unedited works and my art - [tumblr](http://tehsasu.tumblr.com/)


End file.
